


Tony's Safe Place

by mabonwitch



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Artist Steve Rogers, BDSM, Bruce Banner is a sweetheart, Dom/sub, Flogging, M/M, Platonic Cuddling, Semi-Public Sex, Skin Hunger, Spanking, Sub Bruce, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 12:46:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5708668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mabonwitch/pseuds/mabonwitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This place is mine. The mansion's my father's, the Tower's for business, but this," he waved a hand at all assembled, "-this is mine."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is the story where Tony owns, well, it's not quite a dungeon, but it isn't NOT a dungeon, either. It's a place for Tony's people to do things that make them happy. Sex. Cuddle. Make art. Read books, create video games, scene together. Cook. Eat. Most of them, there's a reason they're here, a reason they feel not-safe in the world. I'm not sure how many of their stories I'll be exploring, or if there will be more than just these first 2 chapters. You've been warned!
> 
> Also, I wrote the first part of this in present tense, then decided I wanted the whole thing in past tense. I think I've caught everything, but give me a nudge if you see something off.

Bruce hesitated at the threshold. Tony urged him inside, hand easy on his lower back. 

"Um." Bruce fiddled with his glasses. "Wow."

Tony turned to him, smiled. "You okay?"

Bruce breathed out slowly. The apartment- suite?- was open plan. The main space was enormous, which he guessed he should've expected, given Tony's ridiculously expensive car. There were three separate couches, and- he paused to count- eight plush chairs scattered about. The kitchen, from what he could glimpse, was equally expansive. There were two pieces of art on the walls, one a traditional oil in a style that Bruce recognized vaguely, the other a charcoal sketch.

"Wow," Bruce said again. What struck him most was how happy everyone seemed. There's near to a dozen people on the couches and chairs and floor- his eyes slid back to a blond guy on his knees- but everyone gave off an aura of contentment. Bruce's past has made him pretty good at reading body language.

"I've never seen anything like this," he confessed. He turned a little to look at Tony.

"You won't," Tony said, fierce and proud. "This place is mine. The mansion's my father's, the Tower's for business, but this," he waved a hand at all assembled, "-this is mine. People get screened before they're invited in. It's a safe place for us."

Bruce was silent for a minute. "It's amazing."

Tony noticed where his attention was, of course. He rubbed a little at Bruce's back. "That's Clint," he offered. "He's Phil's sub. They can't go out because of their work, so..."

Bruce nodded back. He assumed the man absently running a hand through Clint's hair is Phil. Clint is soft at his feet, head tilting into Phil's hands, throat bared submissively. He looked blissed out. Phil was talking animatedly with another women, a rather stunning red-head. Bruce licked his lips, shifting from foot to foot.

"You don't have to do anything," Tony said, quiet. "No one's expecting anything here, me least of all. This is just somewhere safe for us to be, together. Whatever you want. Whatever you need."

Bruce nodded again. He fiddled with the cuffs of his button-down. "Maybe- you could unbutton my shirt? Um, if you wanted?"

Tony turned into him and brushed a warm kiss over his lips. He let his hands speak for him, loosing Bruce's buttons one by one. Bruce tilted toward him a little. His shoulders came down as his shirt fell open.

"Tony!"

The moment is broken by a blond man bounding toward them. Bruce flinched back instinctually- he looks like the type to have played football and beaten Bruce up a few years back- but the man doesn't seem to notice. Thankfully, because in the next second Bruce took in the wide grin, the paint-spattered clothing, and the paintbrush that the man doesn't seem to be aware he is still holding. Bruce found himself unwillingly charmed. 

"Oof." Tony rolled his eyes at Bruce as he is thoroughly embraced. "Hey Steve." When he isn't released after a long moment, Tony's eyebrows go up. "Are you under-hugged today or something?"

Steve muttered something about Bucky and a business trip into Tony's shoulder. Tony's eyes went a little worried and he petted Steve's hair for a moment. "Why don't you go cuddle with Thor?"

"His girlfriend's here," Steve said, and then sprang back from Tony, shooting an embarrassed look at Bruce. "I mean, not that- sorry, God, sorry! Hi, you must be Bruce, Tony hasn't shut up about you for weeks."

Bruce smiled, mollified and amused. Steve really does seem like a nice guy.

Tony chuckled. "What Steve means is, though Thor is a complete cuddle-whore, being around him and Jane can be intense. She lives in New Mexico and they don't get to see each other often." Bruce's eyes land on a couple that seemed to be having fully-clothed sex on one of the couches. "Got it in one," Tony said. "Hey, I should introduce you later. She's a physics major. We'd be the holy trinity of science!"

Steve tried to slink off. Tony stopped him by grabbing his belt. "Hey, no, where are you going? What about Darcy?"

Steve winced. "She's not here, and she wants into my pants. No."

Bruce regarded him curiously. "All you want is a platonic cuddle?" Steve nodded, looking sad and wide-eyed. "I'll cuddle with you."

Steve's eyes widened. "Really? I mean, we don't know each other, and you don't seem like the hugging type. Not that I'm saying no! I'm definitely saying yes. Wait, aren't you and Tony on a date?" Bruce patiently waited out the rambling. Tony made a surprised face, because Steve isn't wrong. Bruce isn't one to invite people into his space easily.

"This place," he said slowly, "it makes me want to try things. I feel-" Bold, he thought, confident in a way he hasn't outside of science in maybe ever. "Good," he settled on, because that's less revealing. "As long as Tony stays with us?"

Tony nodded quickly. "Whatever you want. As long as you want."

Bruce coughed. "Maybe put the paintbrush down first? I don't want to get paint on my clothes."

Steve blinked and smiled sheepishly. "I'll go change," he promised, and heads off. Bruce tracks him across the room, where he placed the brush with several others by an easel that looked out over the city. He can feel his heart rate picking up, nerves fizzing under his skin.

Tony bumped into his shoulder. "Hey," he said, quiet and curious, "you still okay?" 

Bruce rolled his shoulders and let Tony guide him to the third, unoccupied, couch. "Yeah. I think so."

Tony nodded, like he knew what Bruce is thinking. It hasn't been that long, this is only their- fifth?- date. But. Tony is amazingly tuned in to Bruce, the same way that Bruce is tuned in to him. They've steered around each other's daddy issues almost effortlessly, spent hours tucked up in labs without speaking, babbled science to each other at 3am. So maybe Tony does know what Bruce is thinking.

"Steve really is harmless," Tony said as they settled on the couch. Tony fit into a corner and left Bruce free. "He and Bucky are ridiculously head-over-heels for each other and totally monogamous. They've apparently known each other their whole life, been married five years now."

Bruce smiled at Tony, small and grateful. That actually was exactly what he needed to hear. It is, well, weird, to know he's going to cuddle with someone he doesn't know. But after the violent incident he'd had a decade ago, regardless of data about the chemicals in the lab accident, Bruce hadn't let himself be close to anyone for years. He knows touch hunger when he sees it. Steve's clinginess made his belly clench in sympathy. He just- wanted to help.

Steve's approach this time was more sedate. He's got a clean pair of sweats and a t-shirt on. His eyes are all puppy-dog, shy and hopeful. Bruce can't help it. He reached a hand out to Steve, softened a little at the way his face lit up. Steve hurried the last few steps and folded himself down onto the couch next to Bruce. 

"Get comfortable," Bruce ordered, tugging at Steve a little. Steve tucked his head onto Bruce's shoulder and tossed an arm over him, leaning heavily. Bruce braced himself. He curled an arm around Steve's body as best he can. The other man let out a content little sigh. Bruce tightened his grip.

Tony put a hand on his shoulder and turned Bruce's face to kiss him. "You, Bruce Banner, are a sweetheart." 

Bruce smiled. It's surprisingly nice, having Steve's heavy weight curled up trustingly against him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce gets flogged, then fucked.

Bruce twitched, and Tony's eyes go dark, interested. There's a drawn out breath between them. They both know by now what will soothe the restlessness under Bruce's skin. It's how they met, after all. Tony slid his hand to the back of Bruce's neck and squeezed roughly. Bruce sucked in a breath.

"Can we go to your place?"

Tony went still. "The Manor?" he asked carefully. They've never done that before. All their play has been at Bruce's small apartment, neither of them giving a damn about the neighbors. 

Bruce flushed, vibrating with want. "No." He struggled with the words. "The- you know- your place. Where you took me." He barely sees Tony blinking out of the corner of his eyes. 

"Oh." Tony relaxed. "Yeah, sure, of course." He hesitated a second. "You know there'll be other people there, right?"

Bruce nodded his head. Clarity is becoming more out of reach. A scene is unfolding behind his eyes, the pain a sharp contrast to the safety and comfort of their surroundings. Tony got them both in the car. He unloaded them right in front of the building, slinging a duffel at Bruce and taking another out of the trunk for himself. Bruce was dizzy with it, with the desire breaking the world into shards around him. His breathing is loud in his ears. 

The response is all out of proportion, like being drugged, but even that thought is distant as Tony steered him into the elevator. Bruce thought that maybe he would've felt like this with someone else, if anything had ever lasted long enough. But Tony's the only one who has ever tuned straight into all Bruce's sweet spots. 

Bruce noticed that there were people there when they enter. Beyond that, he has eyes only for the cross. Tony pushed him straight to it, taking Bruce's duffel and forcing him flat against it until he moaned softly. The red leather is plush under his cheek. His knees went a little bit weak. The smell reminded him of other scenes. Having his face pressed into it drags him down. The sound he made is a little wild.

"Shh," Tony soothed. He molded himself to Bruce's back, one hand coming up to pull tight in Bruce's hair. "I'm gonna hurt you so bad, sweetheart."

Bruce choked and shuddered all over. Tony doesn't promise unless he's going to follow through. His skin itched, the faint sensory memory of what it was like the last time with Tony. Tony twisted his hand tighter into Bruce's curls, sending bright, hot sparks down Bruce's spine.

"Stay," he said. Bruce froze perfectly in place, nothing but the rise and fall of his chest. He listened in mesmerized silence to zippers being opened and the contents of the duffel being re-arranged. The order anchored him. Without Tony's hands, Bruce feels like he could float away. Tony hummed in pleasure, which is how Bruce knows his attention is back on him. Oh, he must not have meant 'stay' quite so literally, then. Tony brushed aside the hair at the back of Bruce's neck to drop a kiss there. "Good boy."

Bruce was completely pliable as Tony undressed him, leaving him bare and cuffed to the cross. The soft little murmurs of approval as Tony slid him out of his clothes drip like honey on his skin, the promise of pleasure not far behind. By the time Tony traced the muscles of his back with a riding crop, Bruce was hard. The first tap isn't even hard. It's the lightest of sensations, just flickering little taps working over his shoulders, then slightly harder. The sting is pleasant. Bruce's eyes flutter closed. Tony stopped, smoothed a hand over his skin. Under the touch, Bruce is aware that his skin has warmed up, flushed with blood rising to the surface. He feels elastic. Tony took his hand away and bit. Hard. Bruce half-shouted, adrenaline pumping through his system. Tony leaned back.

"Good." His voice was warm, deep. Then he bit again, right over the spot he'd bitten before. It hurt like a motherfucker. It brought Bruce up on his toes, hands locked tight around the cross. He doesn't protest, doesn't realize he was holding his breath until Tony released him and he breathed out. "Very good."

Bruce shook a little, waiting for another surprise. Tony only pushed him back against the cross, though. He warmed up Bruce's thighs and ass the same way he did his shoulders, teasing taps making way for harder strokes. Eventually, he pulled back further from Bruce. Bruce braced. The crop snaps into him, full force. Even as hard as Tony can hit with it, it is a lighter toy. Tony used it quickly, perhaps a dozen strokes on each side, then the same on his shoulders. There's a pause, and then Tony is back, running his hands over Bruce, checking him over. Bruce gets a light smack on his thigh to warn him what's coming. Tony started in full force.

Anyone who thinks spanking is for newbies, some cute activity to ease a person into real BDSM, hasn't been hit by Tony. Tony laid into him, open hands stinging on his ass and thighs. Bruce gasped with him, needy sounds caught between asking for more and for less. Tony must have sensed him thinking because he stopped, fingers gripping cruelly in sensitive flesh.

"You can beg me to stop, Bruce," he said, menace and pleasure thick in his voice, "but I won't."

Lightning-fast, Tony knotted a hand in Bruce's hair and jerked his head back. He slapped him across the face, just once, then put him back where he was. Bruce reeled in place. Tony raked his nails over Bruce's back and ass, hard enough to mark. It was so sharp it was almost too much. After a long, tenuous moment where Bruce' thighs trembled and he had to fight not to close them, Tony returned to hitting him. It went on and on, the pain crashing around him like ocean waves. Bruce rode the rhythm of it, the pauses where Tony bit into the meat of his shoulders and the change where Tony pulled out the flogger.

Bruce fucking loved that flogger. Tony wielded it like an extension of himself. It took Bruce right out of his mind and back into his body, suddenly excruciatingly aware of everywhere he hurt. His cock jerked against his belly every time the flogger hit. Bruce tried to pant through it, tried to yell. Nothing worked. He kept getting closer to the edge. Finally, he choked out, "Tony."

Tony didn't stop working him over with the flogger. "You know the rules, darling," he said, sounding smug and delighted, like he always did.

Fuck. Bruce pressed his head further against the leather headrest. Yes, he did know the rules. He could come. Tony was generous about orgasms. But that didn't mean Tony would stop, and the pain was always worse after he came. And if Tony wanted him to come again later, he would. He shuddered hard, remembering. Oh God, he would. Tony didn't care that he was almost forty, if Tony wanted Bruce to come, then Bruce had better come. 

Not helping. Bruce gritted his teeth. With his hands cuffed, he couldn't reach down to give his balls a jerk. He might be able to smash himself against one of the legs of the cross. Maybe. If Tony let him. Tony wasn't going to let him, though. Bruce flexed his thighs, pushing himself away from the cross. He tried to focus on his toes, on the grain of the wood under his feet. He tried to think of equations.

Nothing worked. Tony had worked up to full swings of the flogger, a deep thudding pattern that grabbed Bruce at his core and shook him. He was too far down, his body almost totally out of his control. Bruce started making noise again, begging little whimpers. Tony gave him back strings of half-coherent praise and encouraging sounds, low growls of pleasure. Dammit. Bruce was going to come. It was inevitable. He started to shake all over.

Tony went silent, his pace intensifying to match the rush of Bruce's need. Everything went still for a golden second. The white noise crawled through his head and Bruce came, a hard shot of pain blasting him a second later. The unceasing crash of the flogger on his ass and back shot electric sparks up and down his spine. It was good, it was so good, he could hardly believe...

For a minute, Bruce didn't register Tony stopping. He was down so deep, the first thing he noticed was heat all along his back. He moaned sweetly. 

"There you are," Tony said into Bruce's ear, "my good, sweet boy." He hummed thoughtfully. "I'm going to get you down before I fuck you."

And, yes, suddenly "down" sounded good. Bruce became aware he was drooping, his wrists supporting a lot of his weight. Tony wedged his strong body up against Bruce's and opened the cuffs. Tony caught his arms before they could fall, easing them down in increments, keeping muscles from tightening up. 

"Think I'm just going to fuck you on the floor," Tony said, and helped Bruce to his knees in a controlled tumble. "Hold on to the cross," Tony said. Bruce wrapped an arm around the nearest leg. "Stay."

Tony's place is large by apartment standards, but not so large it took him more than a minute to reappear. "Let go now," Tony said. He guided Bruce back until Bruce was kneeling on a pillow covered by a sheet. "Stretch out, lay down." Bruce did, sighing. Tony had put a second pillow under the sheet at waist level. Tony chuckled. "There you go. You can rub off if you want."

Bruce murmured a response, floating. He was vaguely aware of Tony cleaning up the cross, wiping Bruce's sweat and come away. He came to fully when Tony pushed his thighs apart and laid down on top of Bruce. He'd stripped somewhere between laying Bruce down and climbing on top of him. There was skin everywhere. Bruce shivered with it. Tony lipped at the bite marks he'd left scattered over Bruce's shoulders and upper back. Bruce could feel Tony's cock, hard and already sheathed in a condom, nudging up against him. 

"Ready?" Bruce barely got out an assenting murmur before Tony pushed himself up and slipped two lubed fingers in. They went easily. Tony rumbled his approval as he worked Bruce open quickly. Bruce felt like his entire body was made of granite, heavy and still. The pleasure as Tony entered him, cock rubbing against that sweet spot inside, was like sunlight. Everything was hot and wonderful and Bruce didn't have to do anything. He just stayed, stayed exactly where he was and let Tony use him. It satisfied something deep inside him, to be taken like this. Time seemed to expand and contract, Tony growing hotter above and inside him. It could have been minutes or hours before Tony came, joyful and noisy. His weight slumped entirely onto Bruce. Tony sighed in contentment and whispered a final, "good boy", then pulled out. 

Bruce squirmed over onto his back when Tony went to toss the condom. He slitted his eyes. He was warm and sore and well used. Everything was right with the world.


End file.
